Raising the Stakes
by astraea2
Summary: Season four, Giles decides that Spike should make himself useful. Spike may have different ideas about what useful means...
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Joss owns the world.

Timeline: Season 4, post 'Something Blue.' From that point on I am changing history!

Rating: R (for now)

*****************************************************

"Why does he have to come with me?" asked Buffy, looking cross.

"Because I am tired of having him constantly under my feet, eating like a pig and watching appalling television. It's like having a teenage son. One who spilt blood on my couch!"

"So you're sending him out to annoy me instead? No fair!"

"Perhaps if he gets some exercise he'll be less – tiresome."

"Couldn't I put a lead on him and take him for a walk?"

"Hey!" came a roar, from the direction of Spike's chair. "I am here you know. And no one asked me if I wanted to go!"

"That is because nobody cares," explained Giles, simply. "If you want to stay here you can bloody well earn your keep!"

Spike scowled. "Okay, I'll tag along and piss off Goldilocks for a while. You can drag a vamp to the cemetery but you can't make him slay!"

Buffy stamped her foot. "Giles!"

"Let's get this clear," said Xander, moving closer to Spike. "You are going to help." A stake materialised from nowhere. "Do you see my – point?"

"I'm not going if he is!" declared Spike in disgust.

Giles sighed. "Some days I wish I'd skipped the pretence and just got a job in a kindergarten," he said to no one in particular.

"I know how to make him help," offered Willow.

"No bloody spells!" growled Spike. He and Buffy caught each other's eyes, before turning hastily away.

"No, much easier. House privileges! If he's good and helps he can watch TV and roam wild and free. If not, then it's back in the bathtub for you, mister!"

"She's really evil!" said Spike, half-impressed.

"Oh alright!" grumbled Buffy. "But if he gets in my way, he gets dusted. If he argues with me, he gets dusted. If he talks at all, he gets dusted."

"And if I take to my heels and run a mile from you wankers as soon as I'm out that door?" he demanded.

"Many tears will be shed," said Giles, with a distinct lack of sincerity.

"We'll sweep up your dusty remains when the commandos get you," said Xander, still waving the stake in front of Spike's face. "Wait, no we won't!"

"You're not bringing them back here!" said Giles, emphatic.

"Stop talking about my death! Fine, I'll go. Get out of this museum! I'll go kill stuff. And I'm going to be looking for blonde haired demons," he pointed at Buffy, "or ones with stupid British accents," he pointed at Giles. "And if I find any I'm going to beat'em to a bloody pulp before I dance on their graves!"

"A dream I've always shared," said Xander, looking at Spike significantly.

"This should be a whole new level of fun," sighed Buffy. "If I got paid, I should get paid more for this."

"I know exactly what you mean," said Giles with feeling

"I can't believe you're making me do this!" she said, shaking her head at him. "If I have to take him then I'm bringing the gang. I can't spend a whole evening with….him!"

"Scared, pet?" Spike sneered.

She laughed. "Oh yeah! You used to be slightly more scary than Giles in research mode. Now you rate below….Xander!"

"Hey!" said Spike, Giles and Xander in offended unison

*******

"Why does it take four of us to do your job, Slayer? Whatever happened to 'One girl to kill the vampires?' You must be the first to need half an army for backup!"

"I don't need them!" retorted Buffy. "Oh guys, sorry, I didn't mean…I like having you around." She glared at Spike.

"You sure 'bout that? And now the watcher seems to think you need me too."

"I don't need you. He needs a break from you. And shut up."

"Oooh, you're scarin' me, love!"

In the midst of the bickering, they failed to notice a vampire approach and jump Willow. They turned as she screamed. Before Buffy could move, Spike had dragged it to the ground and staked it.

"This is too easy for me, I need a real fight," he said, aggravatingly. "But I can see why you could do with the help."

"I do not need help!" stated Buffy, enunciating clearly. "You're just distracting me."

"A bad workman blames his tools," said Spike, rather mystifyingly. The others gave him odd looks.

"Okay then, Tool-of-the-Slayer," said Xander, "Why don't you patrol and we'll go home?"

"Because it's my responsibility to make sure the world doesn't end?" Buffy reminded them.

"I could do your job with one hand tied behind my back!" scoffed Spike.

"How about both hands tied behind that tree?" challenged Buffy.

"Oh, you'd love that wouldn't you?" he said suggestively.

"Can I kill him, Buff?" asked Xander hopefully pulling out a stake. Spike backed away warily. The two circled Buffy for some moments, as she watched with growing irritation.

"Enough!" she finally yelled. "Xander, stop. If anyone gets to kill him it's going to be me. And I'm too busy to deal with this!"

Xander looked hurt. "Fine. We get the picture. Don't want to get in the way of the Chosen One and the Big Bland!" He stalked off, with Willow following reluctantly.

"Looks like your friends didn't want to stick around," said Spike, unhelpfully. "Just as well you've got me pet."

"Any chance you want to go somewhere that's not here? I could collect you when I'm finished?" she asked in warning tones.

"I want to fight too, you know," he replied stubbornly. "Been cooped up for days. Anyway, what's the matter? You afraid of a little competition?"

"Hello? Slayer! God, could you be any more arrogant?"

"How about a little – wager – then?" he spoke slowly, a gleam in his eye.

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

"I bet I can kill more demons than you."

She looked at him disbelievingly.

"Don't think I can? Then you won't mind if I set the stakes…..no pun!"

"What do you want if you can slay more vamps than the vampire slayer?" she asked, smiling sarcastically.

"I want you to – ah – service me." She looked at him blankly. He sighed and nodded in the direction of his nether regions. She punched him in the face.

"Because you know you'll lose," he nodded with mock sympathy while rubbing his jaw.

"I will _not_….fine. What do I get when I win?" She looked thoughtful. "I could kill you, but hey, I can do that anyway. It should be more fun than that." She smiled suddenly. "You're going to be our slave."

"You already have me shackled in the bathtub, what more do you want?"

"You're going to be grateful for the hospitality. You will clean and cook - and not poison anyone! You'll wear an apron. You will be polite to Giles. And me! Get the picture? And you'll clean your stupid blood out of the couch!"

"Nothing gets blood out!" he complained. "Okay, deal. I'm one up already, you know. I did save your friend while you were too busy prattling."

"Fair enough. You'll need it. This ends at midnight. We have to slay within seeing distance of the other person. Any demon counts. Big ones do not count as two!"

"And you can't kill me when you're losing!" 

"I suppose so." She checked her watch and found herself hitting the ground. Spike, who had thrown her aside, was valiantly ignoring the pain in his head and laying into a young and naïve looking vampire. Vampire turned to dust. Spike turned to Buffy, looking smug.

"That would be two to me. Buffy's giving me a blowjob!" he sang.

She punched him.

"Hey! Cheat!" 

"Me? You knocked me to the ground to get that vampire!" she retorted, still angry.

"Saved your life, you mean?" he asked, wondering how much he could rile her before he got killed. 

She took off before he could continue. He ran after her, seeing her destination of a group of three vampires. By the time he had reached her, there were no vampires.

"You're going to look cute in an apron," she said. "And Giles will be so impressed!"

"It's not over yet, bitch," he growled. "There should be a nest over behind the mausoleum, see who's winning after that!"

"And you were planning to tell me about this when?" 

"Just ten seconds ago there. And I thought it was very sporting of me. I just don't want you complaining when you lose. You can moan if you want," he said, a glint in his eye.

She had already begun to sprint in the direction he had indicated. This time he caught her easily. _Maybe she wants to lose, _he thought_. _As he reached level with her, she turned and kicked his legs from under him, sending him spinning to the ground. 

__

No, doesn't want to lose, he thought dimly through the pain_. _He cursed her furiously as she vanished from sight.

She rounded the corner sharply and began to wish she hadn't. What seemed like a dozen vampires stared at her in surprise. _Sometimes stealthy is good_, she reminded herself with a sigh. Two attacked her at once, one getting kicked ten feet in the air, the other finding himself on the pointy end of a stake. 

__

Four, she calculated mentally. She found herself surrounded by a circle of five tough and burly, rather pissed-off vampires. Two more ran at her and she knocked their heads together. That won't make them any deader, she berated herself, aware of a flurry of blonde activity not far off. 

And an irritating English accent yelling "That's four for me, bitch!" She tried to ignore him and concentrate on the job in hand. Something heavy hit her back, almost knocking her over. She reacted instinctively, turning with stake in hand. She met a cloud of dust.

"You threw a vampire at me? You moron!" she yelled at Spike, who was shaking the pain from his head. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Handing you a victory it seems," he muttered, the pain abating. Stupid bloody government. How could they have known he would ever want to throw vampires at people? He took his bad mood out on the next unfortunate vamp to cross his path, beating him viciously before killing him.

"Spike!" He turned at the shrill cry and saw Buffy pinned to the ground, vampire at her neck.

"You sure you don't want to get that one yourself, love? Might put the numbers in my favour?" She made a strangled noise, which he interpreted as a less than intimidating threat to his life.

"You persuaded me," he said, throwing himself forward and staking the vampire without a struggle. As it poofed, he landed on top of Buffy. Who didn't look happy.

"How dead did you want me to be before you helped?" she demanded, not pushing him off.

"I thought I was saving your honour. And I thought you could look after yourself?"

She punched at him but he caught her hand and held it. "How many did you slay?"

"How many did you?"

"Not over yet!" she shouted, hurling him off her and jumping to her feet.

They fought side by side for the next ten minutes, each keenly aware of the other's every move. _Kinda fun, thought Buffy_. Being in full slay mode with a partner…_in slaying._ She hadn't felt so hyped on patrol in ages. Maybe since Faith. _Yeah, that ended well, added the voice of reason._

Adrenaline flowing, she staked the final vamp and turned around. _Want more._ Well, there was one. She smiled slowly and raised her stale. He looked at her cynically. She ran at him, lowering her stake at the last minute and lunging at him with her whole body. 

He staggered backwards, wrapping his arms around her as he fell and pulling her with him. They kissed furiously. _So the fight-thing is an aphrodisiac, _thought Buffy_. Cos there has to be some excuse for this. I'm kissing Spike._

"Spike! Stop it!" she gasped, pulling away.

"Why?" he asked with a leer.

"Cos….eeww! This is revolting. Me and you?"

"Yeah," he agreed, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her back. "Sick and twisted."

"And never gonna happen!" she insisted. She pushed him away and jumped to her feet.

He caught her before she had fully collected herself. With a hand on her shoulder he turned her around.

She glared at the confident smile and readied herself to knock it off his face. And instead kissed him. _Mmmmm. _

"You ready to admit I won?" he asked, finally breaking away.

She punched him in the face, then turned and fled.

"Better a willing kiss than an unwilling blowjob!" he called, loudly enough for her to hear and not respond to.

"Bloody idiot!" he berated himself, more quietly.

*******

"How did it work out? Did it go well?" asked Giles, looking up from books

"No!" said Buffy. "Oh yes!" said Spike simultaneously.

Giles looked at them more closely.

"Did you have a hard night?" he asked with concern, noting their tattered clothes and various marks and scratches.

"No – yes. Tired. Going home," said Buffy, not meeting her Watcher's eye.

He looked at Spike questioningly as she left.

"She'll be okay," he explained with a slight smile. "She'll come round. We just need a bit more practice."


	2. First Strike

"And you'll take Spike with you?" suggested Giles, with a pretence at casualness.

"Hang on a minute! Didn't I have to do that yesterday?"

"And it went very well. So he should go with you again," said Giles in a tone of reasonable argument.

"It did – _not_!" Buffy collected herself. "He was annoying and distracting and….and annoying. And I'm the vampire slayer, not the vampire babysitter!"

"Doesn't come under my job title either, you know!" Giles pointed out. 

"But you're a Watcher," pointed out Buffy. "So technically, you could be watching Spike and ……well, it could be your job," she finished lamely.

Giles gave her a sceptical look.

"And yesterday you said the idea was that if he got out of the house for a while he might be less annoying," complained Buffy. "Didn't it work?"

A yell of "Oy, Watcher-boy! You got any coffee left?" interrupted them from the kitchen.

"Why do you need coffee? There's blood in the …bloody fridge!" yelled Giles. "No, not really!" he replied to Buffy.

Spike strode into the room carrying a mug of blood. "Blood-caffeine cocktail," he explained curtly. "Really good buzz."

"Oh god," groaned Buffy. "Spike hyped on caffeine. That's all we need."

Giles raised an eyebrow at her. "Patrolling?" he reminded her.

"I'm not 'patrolling'!" spat Spike.

"I thought you liked killing things…..didn't we have this conversation yesterday?" asked Giles, confused.

"Sure, killin' things is fun," he said cheerfully. " Not 'patrolling'!" he explained with disgust in his voice.

So then, you would be amenable to going out and 'killing things' with Buffy while she 'patrols'," said Giles, with rising impatience.

"I'd rather go out and kill Buffy while she patrols," he offered, looking at her slyly.

"Giiiiiles! It's not fair! Since time began Slayers have got to go patrolling….."

"Which you complain about every night!" interrupted Giles.

"Slayers can't patrol with stupid vampires getting in the way! Except for the ones who get staked. And I now appreciate my role as slayer and I wanna go on my own!" she stamped a foot.

"And I think Spike could play an important role in….in the fight against evil," Giles suddenly sounded serious.

"Yep. If he decides to stake himself!" she muttered.

"Hey! What the hell are you on about! You're not turning me into the bloody Poofter! Fighting evil?!" Spike sounded outraged.

"How can he fight evil? He is evil!" yelled Buffy.

"Damn right!" yelled Spike.

"Oh for the love of god!" exhaled Giles. "You are going to patrol and you are going to do so together and you are going to be quiet about it!"

Buffy was silenced by the unfairness of the situation.

Spike was silenced by the memory of who paid for the blood.

Together, they quietly left the house.

*****

"This is so unfair!" groused Buffy. 

"Ha!" Spike gave a hollow laugh. "At least you don't get sent out to follow your mortal enemy and _help her_!" he spat.

"Help?" laughed Buffy. "You? That's really funny!"

"I helped last night!" he countered. "I helped so much you…" His words were stopped by the fist that connected with his mouth.

"You have to stop talking!" she said. "Or I will kill you, so help me god!"

"Your Watcher won't like that," he said smugly. "I think he'd be cross."

"That I can cope with," she said, with a hint of desperation. "You – saying things - I'm not so sure about!"

"I'll be quiet," he said agreeably. Buffy didn't look optimistic.

They walked on in silence.

"What the hell are we going to do about this?" he finally burst out.

"Five minutes. Is that a personal best?"

"I'm serious! We're going to end up killing each other if this goes on and thanks to the bloody government, I can't even hit you!"

"I know," she sighed. "Giles sounded _intense_. He's gonna keep making us patrol together." She threw her arms up despairingly.

"What's his problem anyway? What's it to him whether I help or not?"

"I think this is Watcher-Council-mode. He's thinking that this is all powers-that–be stuff. Chip ergo redemption."

"He can sod off!" growled Spike. "He needn't think he's going to make me all nancy soul-boy!"

"I've noticed the flaw in his plan," agreed Buffy dryly. "The chip didn't affect your personality."

"Damn right!" he swaggered.

"So what do we do? I mean, Slayer lifespan is pretty short but I'm seriously thinking it's too long if I have to go out with you – _patrol with you!_ – every night."

"I hear you," he agreed. "And the constant sound of your voice is melting my brain."

"Brain? Ha!"

"Back to a plan. I suggest you kill your Watcher."

She looked at him askance.

"Well I can't do it," he explained, reasonably.

"I'm not really on board with the killing of Giles," said Buffy, with half a smile. "Yet!"

"Plan the second. We go on strike."

"And you stop - what? Watching TV?"

"Killin' stuff," he corrected. "See how long he sends me out if we just don't kill stuff."

"So we what? Sit in the cemetery with placards chanting 'We won't kill!'? Vamps'll love that!"

"Not exactly, love. We just tell him that we don't kill well together. You get under my feet. I distract you with my devastating good looks. No dead demons."

"So basically, we don't work well together," she summarised.

"Such a lie," he said under his breath. "We were great."

"Riley!" she cried, distracted and happy.

"Huh?" Spike turned to see Buffy grinning at some….great lumbering jackass. Just great, he thought.

"Buffy," said Riley, with a smile that faded as he registered the presence of Spike. "And…?"

"Oh, just – William," Buffy improvised hastily. "Just a friend of mom's from England." 

She turned her back to Spike who rolled his eyes and lit a cigarette.

"So, um. Kinda late to be walking through cemeteries, isn't it?" said Riley.

"She's got me to protect her, hasn't she?" replied Spike, throwing a possessive arm around her shoulder. 

Buffy scowled and with difficulty refrained from punching him.

"So I'm sure she'll be fine," agreed Riley, his smile now looking forced. "Where are you guys going anyway?"

"Coffee," said Spike decisively. "Never did get any earlier."

"Would you like to come?" asked Buffy, with a pleading look at Riley.

Look at her, battin' her eyes at that idiot, thought Spike with a twinge of jealousy.

"I do have some, uh, stuff but….why not. Just for a while."

*****

"William, will you get the coffees?" she asked sweetly. He glared at her.

"Just a decaf for me," added Riley, "The old caffeine isn't good for the system."

Spike looked at him in disbelief and went to get the drinks.

Buffy exhaled the breath she had been holding for the past five minutes. Why did Spike have to be here right now? Tonight of all nights. She had a bad feeling about this. It was the way he kept glaring at Riley. And talking to him.

__

Must get Will to look into a gagging spell, she thought. Oh dammit, he's back.

Spike lounged in the seat beside them, looking challengingly at Riley.

"You been around long?" Riley asked him. "You look – kinda familiar."

Spike looked at him with suspicion. "Only arrived today. I don't know where you could've seen me."

"Strange…..I could have sworn….oh well, you'd never believe me…" Riley trailed off.

"And what do you do yourself?" asked Spike, with a very false smile. Buffy kicked him under the table.

"Riley's a psych major," she explained, with a bashful smile at Riley. "He's a TA, you know, like a tutor?"

"Psych major? All that Freud-crap?" snorted Spike. "Tell me, mate," he added in a confidential undertone to Riley, "It must be a great way to get the ladies, isn't it?"

"That's not really the idea," said Riley, looking awkwardly at Buffy.

"Oh, come on, all those yummy little freshmen. Like Buffy here," he said, as though suddenly noticing her.

"As my father used to say 'If you want to be a gentleman, start by acting like one.'" He looked at Spike with ill-concealed dislike.

Buffy managed to kick Spike before he laughed. Pre-emptive strike, she thought, trying not to smile herself.

"We should do this again," she said to Riley. "When we both have more time."

She broke off as Riley jumped. Something had hit him in the face. Something that looked like – a sugar lump.

She looked in horror at Spike.

"Oh, I am sorry," said the vampire, with apparent sincerity. "Did I hurt you?"

*****

"You really do pick'em!" said Spike, chuckling to himself.

"What are you talking about? And shut up!"

"That!" he said, indicating Riley's direction.

"He's Riley," she said defensively.

"He's a nancy-boy farmhand with less personality than Peaches! 'Oh no, I couldn't drink coffee!'" he mocked.

"Shut up!" repeated Buffy. "I think we've heard more than enough of your voice for one day."

"You two belong together," he said with disgust.

"And what's that supposed to mean? No, forget I said that. Just be quiet!"

"I can just see you two together with your nice, sensible, boring life. God, Slayer, you'll probably be dead by the time you're twenty-five, did you never consider actually having some fun?"

"This from the guy whose idea of fun is eating people?"

"You want some fun?" he said softly, suddenly stopping and leaning towards her.

She took a step away, feeling annoyed with herself. Why back away from a stupid, neutered demon? Unless it was because she wanted to take a step forward…..

"What are you talking about?" she asked, voice firm and steady. "And why the hell do I keep saying that?" she implored the heavens.

"I can show you fun," he offered, meeting her eyes.

She swallowed abruptly. Why was she still standing there? Now would be a good time for leaving or punching or…….something.

"Wha – no!" she managed weakly. _Yeah, very convincing, Buffy, she scolded herself_.

"You sure?" His eyes were boring into her. "Once in a lifetime offer, Slayer. I could make you scream. I could make you forget _that_ idiot's name and probably your own into the bargain. I could fuck you for hours until your legs wouldn't work and you'd still want more. I could make come until your body shakes so hard you think it's going to fall apart. I could…"

"Spike. Stop talking."

He dipped his head, meeting her mouth. Flicked a tongue over her lips before kissing her deeply. Grazed her tongue with his teeth, and, feeling her body shudder, bit down on her lower lip. 

__

Damn government, he thought hazily. _I could eat her up. Starting with that neck_…. On second thoughts, if it wasn't for the government, he wouldn't be in this position. _God bless the blasted government._

He traced the length of her throat with a cool finger. Dropping his hands lower, he traced the contours of her body.

Through her shirt, he teased a nipple. She inhaled sharply. He pinched a little harder, feeling her drawing involuntarily closer.

His other hand trailed lower, meeting her belt.

He glanced up to see her head thrown back, eyes closed.

__

Onward Christian soldiers, he thought, suppressing a smile. Pulling her closer, his hand slipped beneath her waistband. 

They both gasped as he met with her warm, wet centre. He felt himself losing control of the situation as his hands explored further and he grew harder and harder.

__

Any chance she'd let him shag her in the middle of the street? 

"Maybe somewhere more private?" he suggested, lips brushing her exposed throat.

She half-nodded. The realised with a jolt of horror what she was doing. And where she was doing it. And who she was doing it with…….

She regained the use of her legs and ran.

*****

The next morning she slunk into Giles' house, feeling guilty.

Giles looked up from his books.

"Sorry about last night. I…."

"It's alright," he said gently. "I know this isn't easy for you. Spike said…." He threw a glance at the vampire in question, who was sprawled on the couch watching TV. "Well, it doesn't matter what he said, I gather he was annoying."

"Hey!"

"What did you say?" She looked at him warily.

"Nothing. Just how we don't seem to get much killed together. I seem to be a bit of a distraction," he said patronisingly. 

She growled and turned back to Giles, who looked at her with sympathy.

"I know this is very trying, Buffy, but I hope you trust me. I think that this is ultimately a good idea. I want you to make an effort to make it work – no more of this silly strike idea."

"Strike?" She looked in confusion from Giles to Spike

"First strike," muttered the grinning vampire.

"It will get better," said Giles, comfortingly.

"Better?" she looked at him wildly.

"Much better," agreed Spike, to Giles' obvious confusion.

"It can't happen again." She stopped, looked from one to the other, then continued out the door, calmly repeating, "It can't happen again."


	3. Home Run

"Ahem. Buffy," Giles shuffled and cleared his throat.

Buffy looked up from research and gazed at him with suspicion.

"Why do you look like you're gonna say something all Watcher-y?" she asked, arms folded. "Don't tell me I have to take Spike out _again_!"

"Well, um, no. Actually, yes. But that's not.I was hoping you could take him for a few days?" Giles sounded distinctly nervous.

"Oh, I'd say she could," drawled Spike from the couch, looking quite interested. He muttered something about stamina' which went ignored by all.

"Giles! No!! Me and Spike? No! In my house? No!" Buffy looked truly horrified.

"Now, pet. You'd think you didn't want me."

"Spike. Shut up."

"You keep sayin' that, I'm going to start thinking you mean it."

She looked at him warily.

"Buffy, please. You'd be doing me a tremendous favour. I have a friend coming" Giles interrupted the exchange, looking at her hopefully.

"That's the orgasm-friend, int it?" supplied Spike helpfully. He was greeted with two resounding scowls.

"But why meeeee?" wailed Buffy. "Isn't there anyone else on the damn planet he can annoy? No, always me!"

"To be fair, I did ask Xander but he had other plans."

"Yeah, too busy shaggin' his demon bird," Spike, ever the font of information, enlightened her. "You know, pet, everyone's having sex except us!" He gave her a look of pure innocence. She did her best to ignore him.

"And Xander suggested your house because your mother is away" continued Giles.

Spike cocked an eyebrow at this news.

"Oh, I'm gonna kill _that_ boy!" ranted Buffy. A thought struck her. "I can just kill him!" she said excitedly. 

Giles looked somewhat confused.

"Spike!" she clarified. "If I just stake him now then – poof! – problem solved! He doesn't have to live anywhere!"

"It is tempting," agreed Giles soothingly. "But I think he may prove a more useful ally if you don't kill him. For the time being," he added to Spike's evident concern.

"Oh, that's just great! When I want to be a nice, normal girl it's all Go kill vampires, Buffy!' but when _I_ want to kill one then suddenly everyone changes the rules!" she grumbled loudly. "Suddenly it's my destiny to sleep with the vampires.I mean have them sleep in my house!" she hastily corrected herself.

"So – it's settled?" asked Giles hopefully.

"All right," Buffy gave in. "But you owe me so big time for this!"

*****

"Spike, come on! You don't own anything, it can't take you this long to pack!" complained Buffy, checking the time yet again. He was doing this on purpose, she just knew it.

"If you steal anything, I can guarantee you'll be sorry!" threatened Giles, removing a bottle of scotch from Spike's interested gaze.

"Why would I even bother?" asked Spike with disgust. "Even if it wasn't all trash, I'll be back in a few days. Won't I, mate?" he finished, with a smile that was guaranteed to annoy.

"Oh yes!" said Buffy with conviction. "Unless he annoys me, in which case he'll be dead before then."

Giles looked less than enthusiastic.

"He'll be back here unless you want an insane psycho-slayer who can no longer tell the difference between watchers and vampires!" Buffy further explained, looking pointedly at Giles, who shrugged.

"Come on Goldilocks, Big Bad's all ready to move house," said Spike with an air of impatience.

"You know this can't end well!" said Buffy, glaring at Giles. "Vampire and Slayer in the same house. It's like a recipe for disaster. It's like some bad film"

"The Odd Couple," said Giles with nostalgia.

Buffy frowned. "We're not a couple!" she said defensively and left, Spike and his bag following behind.

"Just don't you even _think_ you're going to try anything!" she snapped at him as soon as they were out of earshot.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, love," he replied, looking innocent. "And aren't we going to patrol?" Buffy was marching at fast pace past the cemetery.

"No. Home," she said, not in the mood to elaborate. She was sick to death of patrolling with him. And at least at home she had earplugs, she thought.

"Knew you'd want to get me home," he smirked.

"You are going to sleep in the basement and be very quiet and not annoy me," Buffy explained carefully.

"Or?" he challenged.

"Or I tie you to a tree in the woods and put a sign round your neck saying Hostile 17.'"

He contented himself with pulling faces behind her back.

*****

"Come in," she said reluctantly. "Words I will regret till the day I – get the next deinvitation spell done."

"You callin' Willow in for that?" he asked, stepping over the threshold. "Better be careful, we could end up getting married again. Though lately you don't seem to need spells to."

"Spike," she said firmly. "You are entering my house. Where I live with dozens of stakes and gallons of holy water. Do you really think this is the time or the place to piss me off?"

"I'm just saying"

"And that will be solved by you closing your mouth."

"You know, your mum's a much better hostess than you."

"Basement! Now!"

"Come on, I'm hungry!" he whined.

"All the more reason for you to get out of my sight. I don't want to be put off my dinner by the sight of you slurping blood!"

"And what am I having?"

"What?"

"Dinner?"

"Didn't you bring blood? You took long enough packing."

"Well. Yes. But I was hoping for hot chocolate and marshmallows."

"Are you insane?" She looked at him, bemused.

"Your mum made it for me last time I was here!" he objected.

"Of course you're insane. Why do I even have to ask? What the hell did you think was going to happen? We were going to sit up watching films and drinking hot chocolate?"

"Not exactly," he replied, a twitch of a smile crossing his face. "I mean, we do have unfinished business from the other night"

"Basement. Basement, basement, basement," chanted Buffy, covering her ears.

"Because if you let me stay up here, you wouldn't be able to resist," he nodded, understandingly. He recoiled from the force of her punch.

"I'm going," he grumbled.

"And stay there," she added. "Or we're doing this with chains!" She cringed as she heard her own words hang in the air. And noted his grin.

"How do you explain the other night to yourself?" he asked, as he left without turning around.

_Stupid vampire._

*****

Stupid vampire. And his stupid words that resounded through her stupid brain. 

_Agghh! Why am I even thinking about this? This is his plot to drive me insane!_

She had _kissed_ him. And she had stood in the middle of the street and let him._touch_ her. And she hadn't stopped him. Not for a very long time, at any rate. Not only was he evil, he was the most annoying person she had ever met. And he wasn't a person. And.. _I have got to stop thinking about him._

Stop thinking about him being just downstairs, probably wide awake and.

_Stop thinking_. Just go to sleep and forget the whole thing. And make sure there was a stake near at hand in case the vampire in the basement with the open invitation to her home decided to pay a little visit. 

He wouldn't.

He might.

Creep into her room in the middle of the night and climb into her bed and

Did she _want_ him to?

Her not-sleeping was disturbed by a racket from the basement.

_What the hell is he doing down there?_

A sound of breaking glass reached her.

_I'm not going down there._

A thunderous crash.

_This is some stupid trick._

The entire house vibrated.

_That's it. Gonna kill him._

She got out of bed in a bad temper and threw on a dressing gown, cursing him. What the hell did he think he was at? If he was breaking stuff for the fun of it she was going to.she wasn't very sure what, but something. Something bad and very painful. 

"Spike!" she called threateningly, as she opened the basement door. "Some of us sleep at night!"

She tried unsuccessfully to turn on the light.

"If you've broken our basement I'm handing you over to my mother and she can deal with you! You'll be sorry then!"

"A little help down here, pet?" was the only response.

She gazed into the now silent blackness of the basement.

"What were you doing?" she demanded impatiently, cautiously making her way down the unlit stairs.

"Demon," he replied. "Over there somewhere."

"Spike, I can't see where you're pointing," she reminded him, "And if you're lying, I'm gonna personally see to it that.."

She finished with a yell as something hit her hard from behind, sending her sprawling to the ground.

"You find it?" called Spike. 

This thing was strong. Buffy finally managed to roll it off her back and clamber to her feet. She matched it blow for blow. 

Spike joined the fray, grabbing it by the neck and throwing it backwards. It ran at him with a roar. Swinging from an overhead pipe, he kicked it with both feet into the path of Buffy who jabbed a knife into it.

It melted into a pool of green slime.

Which was washed away by the torrent of water coming from the newly-cracked water pipe.

"Spike!" she screeched as the flood grew. "Do something!"

"I'm not a bloody plumber!" he grumbled, fiddling with the pipe.

"You're not a bloody gymnast either, you idiot! My mother is going to kill me if she sees this!"

"Do you normally keep demons in your basement or was that a special treat for me?" he enquired irately as he worked.

"This house was demon free until this evening. Why does trouble always seem to happen where you are?"

"Don't you go blaming me! I saved you!"

She snorted.

"And I'm not sleeping down here now!"

"What, are you afraid of the dead demon?" she mocked.

"No, bitch. This place is under two inches of water, that's all!"

She shrugged.

He grasped the pipe with two hands. "Do I get a bed or do you want a proper flood?"

"You wouldn't!" she made a move towards him.

"Is that a dare, pet?"

"Fine," she said, exasperated. "Sleep upstairs then." 

"That should hold it for a while," he said, glancing at the pipe. "Get a year or two out of it."

"What kind of demon was it?" she said suddenly, ignoring his handiwork.

"You askin' for my help, love?"

"Well, you can see in the dark, can't you? And it'd be nice to keep up with the varieties of monsters that are free to wander around my house." She glared at him.

"Fair enough. Information comes at a price, you know."

"What price?" she asked with suspicion.

"What bed am I getting?" 

"You're out of your undead mind!" She began to walk away.

"Like you don't want me," he said, bounding after her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Ughh, you're all wet," she complained, struggling against him.

"Not the only one, am I?" His hand dived between the folds of her dressing gown and he laughed at her as she kicked at him. 

"It had a tattoo, by the way."

"What?" 

"Your basement-demon. Tattoo across his face. Now, you ready for bed?"

He spun her round. She prepared herself to say something cutting and dismissive and very, very firm..because nothing could happen.

"Spike," she said, "This is silly. And wrong. We can't do this. It's insane. I mean, it would be crazy and tomorrow."

"Slayer," he interrupted calmly. "You know what?"

"What?" she said, hypnotised by his stare.

"It think it's your turn to shut up."

He trailed cool, damp kisses down her neck, growling as he came in contact with her bite marks. That growl seemed to travel through her body, making her skin tingle.

She pulled his head around towards her own and they kissed violently. 

"N-noooo," she whispered, holding back.

"Summers, shut up," was the only reply and she found herself splashing to the wet ground. He kneeled over her, gazing at her.

She grabbed him by his soaking T-shirt and pulled him on top of herself. As they kissed, he pinned her arms above her head, flattening her against the floor.

"Chip?" she asked, breaking the kiss and sounding confused.

"Well, well, well," he said, the significance hitting him. "Maybe you want it." _Yup. God bless the government._

Not waiting for her reply, he attacked her neck again, biting at it with human teeth and feeling her eager response. _Was there any chance that she secretly wanted to be drained dry? Probably not._

Refocusing his attentions, he pulled at her pyjama bottoms. He found his hands meeting with hers and prepared for resistance, shocked to realise that her hands were working very much in tandem with his own.

Between them they discarded her pyjamas, pulling aside her dressing gown in the process.

Buffy had moved to the more challenging ground of his trousers, where she worked at his belt with trembling hands.

_Slayer's gone insane_, thought Spike. She found what she was looking for. _Long may it continue._

He hovered above her and their eyes met. _Are we really doing this?_

Leaving no time for either of them to come to their senses, Spike drove into her, hard and fast.

"Fucking hell," they breathed in unison.

She grasped his upper arms tightly, digging her fingernails in and trying to control his pumping body. Why did this feel right? Wasn't right. It was as wrong as anything possibly could be. She was fucking Spike in her mum's basement.and if he stopped now she was going to kill him.

He was barely aware of her efforts. Nothing was going to stop him now.

She came with a strangled scream; clutching at him and shaking.

He wasn't expecting that.

It shouldn't make him feel all.triumphant, that's all. He'd made the Slayer scream. He would taunt her about that for as long as they both lived. That's all.

He continued to pound into her, feeling her quiver beneath him, moaning softly. That did it.

Collapsing on top of her, they lay there for a moment, almost embracing.

"God, that was good," she managed eventually.

Yeah, he thought. God, she's amazing.

No! This is a quick fuck, grind the Slayer into an early grave, get the hell out of here.

She moved beneath him, hands pulling at him, mouth searching.

Maybe not so quick....

"Ready for round two?" he asked, hoping he was himself.

"Oh yes," she agreed, with a fervour that removed his own doubts. 

She threw him on his back and mounted him. He groaned, raising his hips to meet her.

_Goin' soft_, he chided himself.

"Not to be complaining about this little scenario, pet, but where's that bed I was promised?"

*****

Buffy woke with a start, and a feeling of dread in her stomach. Sitting fully up in bed, her head turned reluctantly to the grinning guest beside her.

"Oh god," she moaned.

"You know, this I could get used to," said Spike, appraisingly.

"Oh god!"

Much better than the Watcher's place."

"Oh dear god, what have I done?!"

"Could be kind of cosy. You and me, nice house, comfy bed." He struggled with all of his vampiric strength to maintain a straight face.

"No!" she screamed, bordering on the hysterical. "You're leaving! In fact you're leaving right now!"

"Isn't it a bit sunny for that?" he asked, calmly.

She threw him a murderous look.

"Now, now. No need to be like that. If that's how you feel, I'll be on my way tonight. Won't bother you again."

"I said _now_!" She hurled a blanket at his head, followed by his clothes.

"I think I get the message."

She stared determinedly at the opposing wall as he got dressed.

"I'll just remove the awful temptation that is me!" he said cheerfully, leaving the room.

Her breathing slowed to something resembling normal as she heard the door bang. She threw herself back on her bed and tried to think clearly.

Things to do today: clean up disaster-site basement, explain missing vampire to Giles and contact Willow for urgent de-invitation spell.


	4. Drunken Interlude

"It's not the same, this three hand poker," complained Xander. "Where's Buffy?"

"Probably off killin' stuff," said Spike wistfully, from the corner. 

At Buffy's insistence, he had been banished from patrol for the night. Giles had reluctantly concurred that the Slayer deserved a night off.

"So not talking to you, Oh-Neutered-One. And turn the TV down."

Without turning around, Spike turned the volume up a little.

"We could go to the Bronze?" suggested Willow hopefully.

"No, I want to play with the cards and win the plastic that represents money!" Anya stated firmly. 

"This game's better with four people," explained Xander gently.

"Spike! Come and play poker!" ordered Anya. Xander and Willow exchanged concerned glances.

"Honey, he's not people," Xander explained, patting her hand. "He is a force of hell, sent here to drive me slowly insane."

"Thanks, mate!" said Spike, sounding genuinely impressed. "And just for the record I don't _want_ to play your little game. I may be neutered and impotent and pretty pathetic but I'm still not that bloody desperate!"

"Hey! I mean – good! I mean – hey!" Xander glared at him.

"Oh come on! I knew you were goody-goody world-saver types, but this is just a joke. It's Friday night and you're all sitting in this hole playing poker for plastic? Sad!"

"And you're doing what exactly?" asked Xander, defensively.

"I," declared Spike with a swagger, "Am at least going to get very, very drunk!" He held aloft a bottle of whiskey.

"It's fifty years since I was very, very drunk," said Anya with a nostalgic sigh. "It didn't end well."

"Hangover?" asked Willow curiously.

"I did some vengeance while inebriated," she explained. "It led to - international tensions."

"We'll put that in the folder of 'things-I-don't-need-to-know-about'," said Xander, shaking his head.

"But I have no powers now so getting drunk sounds like an excellent idea!" 

"Sounds like _fun_," said Willow very quietly. Spike pricked up his ears.

"More than welcome to join me, Red," he said with a smile. "Glad to see you haven't all signed up to the Watcher Code of Boredom."

"Guys," said Xander nervously. "This is a bad, bad idea. Getting drunk with the big evil vampire. In fact, it's probably a plot."

Spike was already filling glasses while Willow and Anya headed for the couch.

"I mean, what would Buffy say?" said Xander, unheeded by anyone.

*****

"Drink!" said Buffy, entering the room and seeing them. "I want drink!"

"Buffy?" said Xander cautiously. "Have you been at the magic beer again?"

"No!" she retorted. "I've had a crappy day, that's what. I had two essays to write and then I had to patrol and there were no demons which was boring and then there were six all at the same time which was kinda bruising and then Giles went on and on and on about….stuff. Blah, blah, blah. And you guys all have drink!" she finished with a pout.

"Wanna run that by us again?" asked Xander, looking puzzled.

"Please don't," begged Spike, passing her a glass. "Drink up and shut up, Slayer."

"You're drinking Spike's drink?" she said, looking at the glass suspiciously. "Drink of Spike? I mean, it could be….spiked!"

"See! Told you!" crowed Xander, before looking at his own empty glass with a frown.

Spike rolled his eyes. 

"We're none of us dead yet," comforted Willow.

"Oh, all right," said Buffy, grabbing the proffered glass and slamming the drink.

"She took a lot of persuasion!" scoffed Spike, refilling her glass. "As usual," he muttered to himself. 

Buffy's eyes widened. The full implications of the situation hit her. Drinking. Drinking in the company of Spike. Who she'd……. No, none of this was good. 

"Well, drink up, Slayer," he said. "Unless you're nervous."

"Why? What? I mean, what would I have to be nervous about? Why would I? I don't have anything to…I mean, I don't know what you're talking about!" _Okay, babbling now._

He looked at her with blatant amusement. She scowled.

"What I meant, love, is how does the super-slayer handle her drink? Be kinda funny to see you legless."

She looked at him, confused.

"You know, pet, flat on your back and drooling," he elaborated, to her obvious displeasure.

"Like you were when Drusilla left you," she said brightly. "No, I don't think I could ever look that stupid."

"I could drink you under the table!" he snarled, turning on her at the mention of his ex.

"I could drink you under anything you want!" she retorted.

"This is a strange, strange conversation that should not be happening," observed Xander, from a safe distance.

"Is this a competition?" enquired Anya.

"What?" demanded Buffy.

"A competition. Between you and Spike. Involving a challenge of drinking and various items of furniture?"

"No! No competition!"

A smug noise from Spike.

"Why is he even here?" asked Buffy in exasperation, indicating the vampire.

"Cos Giles threw him out and you threw him out and I haven't had a chance to throw him out yet," explained Xander. "And you've got out of this Spike-sitting thing kinda lightly, now we come to mention it. You only had him one night."

A muffled snort from Spike's direction.

"So you've wimped out, have you, pet?" He held up the whiskey bottle.

"I could drink the entire thing and still beat you up!" she declared.

Silently, he passed her the bottle. She poured a large measure and knocked it back.

"And we're really thinking this is a good idea?" said Xander desperately, to the room at large.

"Now this is fun," said Anya, happily.

"You're not all just going to sit around and watch!" insisted Buffy, passing the bottle on. "Drink!"

"Goodbye sanity, it was nice knowing ya!" sighed Xander, taking a swig.

"And one for Spikey," said Buffy, reclaiming the bottle and shoving it at him.

He chugged down half of it. Buffy looked at the spectacle with amazement and some trepidation.

"None left for us," said Willow, sounding wistful.

"Not to worry, Red. Plenty more where that came from," said Spike, reaching into a bag behind him.

Buffy's fear increased as she saw the array of bottles.

"Where'd you steal them from?" she asked, with false bravado.

"Not really the point, is it love?" he replied with a smirk. "Now, in your own words – drink!"

*****

"Drink is good," sighed Buffy, stretching herself full length upon the couch. "I feel all – relaxed."

"You look – relaxed," commented Xander. "If that's a euphemism for 'drunk'."

"Am not!" she said lazily.

Spike looked at her reclined form, amused.

"And so you need more drink," he concluded, offering a brimming glass.

"I can take it!" she bragged, accepting and swallowing. He grinned and sat himself on the couch, leaning over her prostrate body.

"Buffy!" he said with pretend surprise. "Are you having – _fun_?"

The part of her brain that worked sent her a clear message that this was a remark worthy of a punch….she wasn't entirely sure why. She tried to glare at him. It only made him grin.

"Hey, drink-hogs!" called Willow, "Share!"

Spike tossed an extra bottle to her. "This one's for me and the Slayer," he explained waving one in front of Buffy's face, hypnotically.

"Quit it!" complained Buffy, swiping ineffectually at it. "Makin' me all – dizzy."

"Because _you're_ not drunk," nodded Spike, with a sly smile.

"I think Buffy's had enough," suggested Xander sounding none too steady of voice.

"You're not the boss of me!" said Buffy, struggling up to point at him.

"I think the Slayer can decide for herself when she's ready to give up," said Spike, receiving a toe in the ribs from Buffy.

"Yes," agreed Anya, looking pointedly at Xander.

"Am not givin' up!" said Buffy, focusing determinedly on Spike and the bottle.

"That's the spirit!" applauded Spike. "Open up!"

Opening the bottle, he attempted to tip some into her mouth. She sat up, choking and spluttering, whiskey streaming down her face.

"You bastard!" she coughed, trying to hit him.

He dodged out of range, very pleased with himself.

"No chip!" he crowed.

To illustrate his point, he threw a little more in her face, confusing her for a moment.

She tried to grab the bottle but he held it out of reach, laughing at her. She threw a punch at him.

"Not fair, pet, I can't hit back," he chided.

"Oh no, the world is so unfair!" she mocked. She lunged drunkenly at him and he fell back against the couch.

He flipped her over and tickled her, realising that this evening could be more fun than he could ever have conceived a night with the slayerettes might be.

Xander looked in bewilderment at the two former mortal enemies wrestling like children.

"Gettof!" she giggled.

"Um, Buffy? Do you want a stake or something?" Xander looked confused.

"I do believe she does," murmured Spike suggestively, causing Buffy to shove him unceremoniously off the couch.

"Why don't you get your undead hands off Buffy!"

"I think she can look after herself," he drawled from the floor. "What's it to you, anyway?"

"Yes, what is it to you, Xander?" asked Anya, tight-lipped.

"Nothing! Anya! I…..God, can I not do anything right around here?"

"Doesn't look like it, mate," agreed Spike cheerfully.

"I think maybe I need a walk," said Willow abruptly. She stood up, looking paler then usual.

"I'll go with you," offered Anya, throwing a look at Xander.

"Oh, you're in trouble now," laughed Spike.

"Shut up and pass the drink!"

*****

"Whassat?"

"Phone," recognised Xander, rousing himself.

"I'll gettit!" claimed Buffy, scrambling to her feet.

"Oh no you won't," he said decisively. "I live here, remember? And you're a just a _leettle_ bit drunk."

"Am not!" she pouted, collapsing on the floor in an ungainly heap. "Am I?"

"Course not, pet," said the face hovering above hers.

She sat up awkwardly. "See! Spike says I'm not drunk!" she yelled at Xander's retreating back.

"Now _you're_ drunk!" She pointed accusingly at Spike.

"Not that bad," he argued, rummaging for another bottle and falling behind a chair.

"You're drunk," she repeated, giggling. "And I'm not. So I won!"

"Here's your prize!" He chucked a whiskey bottle at her head.

"Nooooo," she remembered slowly. "I get to beat you up. Why did I drink that crap just to beat you up?"

"Beats me. And….'sall very unfair. I can't even hit you!"

"And they say nothing good ever happens on the Hellmouth!"

He glared at her.

"Go on, try!" she baited him. "You know you want to!"

"You don't know the half of it."

"Come on then, hit me, Spike!" she taunted him.

Roaring, he launched himself at her, swung his fist drunkenly and missed, lost his balance and instead hit the ground with his head.

"That was funny! Do it again!" ordered Buffy, clapping her hands in delight.

"No!" he groaned, trying to pick himself up. Okay, something not right. Shouldn't be this difficult. He turned his head to see her foot planted firmly on his back.

He grabbed it and twisted, sending her flying. Only a minor twinge in his head and an end result of the Slayer lying flat on her back, confused as to how she'd got there.

She struggled to her feet, goaded by his grinning face. Her foot connected with his chest and he stumbled. He swung wildly at her, a fist meeting her face. 

In perfect synchronisation, they yelled in pain. 

Buffy returned the punch with full but drunken force, falling forward with the momentum of the swing. Together, they collapsed clumsily into the chair behind them, cracking it and crashing to the floor.

Sprawled on the ground, they began to catch their breath.

"I knew you wanted me," he murmured, sliding his arms around her waist. His fingers began to explore further. "And you have an excuse this time…."

She turned to face him and their eyes locked. _To hell with behaving_……

"What the hell?" Xander's head appeared at the door. "What have you done to my room?!"

"It was an – accident!"

"It's her fault!"

"He started it!"

"Your chair's crap!"

"It broke the drink!" wailed Buffy, noticing. "Look."

"I don't wanna see!" shouted Xander. "You've wreaked my house!"

"Not much to wreak," observed Spike.

"Sorry," said Buffy, trying to extricate herself from Spike and broken chair.

"That was Giles on the phone," reported Xander, shaking his head as he surveyed the damage.

"What did he want? Why didn't he talk to me?" she demanded.

"I just…..thought I'd take a message instead. He said he's found out about the tattoo demon? Whatever that is."

"The what?"

"Your basement, pet," slurred Spike, eyes glinting at the memory.

"Shuttup!" she snapped.

"He said you two talked about it earlier, remember? No, maybe not. He was researching something for you?" prompted Xander.

"Blah, blah, blah," she recalled.

"Ah-ha. And it's all very bad, or something. There's a nest in some crypt. Ancient Order of ….something or other. I missed most of it cos I heard you guys crashing around in here. Are you listening? Buffy? What did I say?"

"Crashing around," repeated Buffy, obediently.

"And now I feel the world's in safe hands."

"She's in very safe hands," drawled Spike, still with an arm around her waist.

She pulled away and rose with difficulty to her feet.

"I should go and patrol," she said firmly, holding onto a wall to steady herself.

"That mightn't be the best idea. I mean – wait till tomorrow."

She stood up straight and took an inadvertent step backwards.

"Are you saying I can't patrol?" she asked with great dignity.

"No. Just….wait till tomorrow. Maybe Giles will have come up with something else."

"What the hell happened?" They all looked up to see Giles, with a crossbow pointed at them.

"Why is it only vampires that need an invitation?" Xander wondered aloud.

"Giles. What's wrong?" asked Buffy, doing her best to stand alone and unaided.

"Well! I thought you were all under attack!" he blustered. "I was talking to Xander, and then there was crashing and yelling and he shouted 'Oh god!' and hung up! I got here as fast as I could!"

"We weren't under attack," admitted Buffy.

"Well it bloody looks like you were! Look at this place. What happened?" His eye fell on empty bottles. "Oh, I see."

"It was Spike's fault!" said Buffy and Xander in unison. 

"He's a very bad influence and he should stay in your house," added Xander, receiving a glare from Giles.

"I think your timing could have been better, Buffy. We'll talk tomorrow."

"You're a very bad Slayer," taunted Spike, quietly.

"Your fault!" she groused, swaying slightly.

"Buffy," said Giles, sounding irate, "You told me that you were incapable of working with Spike. Apparently you are perfectly capable of spending an entire night drinking with him though."

"Yeah, they work very well together. They can use their super powers to break people's houses," grumbled Xander.

"I shall see you both tomorrow evening. We'll see if we can't put your combined powers to a more beneficial use."

Buffy felt suddenly sober.


	5. The Road to Doom

"I trust you're, ah – feeling better?"

"Yep. Wide awake and ready to go!" she replied with forced enthusiasm. Admittedly, that was after a day comprising more painkillers and cups of coffee than she could count. And that on top of slayer healing powers. And she did feel kind of tired…..

"Good. Good." Giles seemed lost in thought.

"Are you really mad?" she asked hesitantly.

"Not at all. Just because we've found creatures of unknown origin invading your own home, that's no reason at all why you should, for example, remain vigilant. And just because you've had the sort of experience with alcohol in the past in which one regresses to a Neanderthal state; well, that's no reason why you should have learned a _lesson of any type."_

"Giles….please? Some of us have headaches here."

He refrained from comment.

"You know it's all your fault?" she continued. "All the Spike-contact you've forced on me, it's no wonder I've become an alcoholic. Speaking of alcoholics, where is he?"

"Late. Even later than you, I might add."

"Ha. Can't handle his drink," she said smugly.

Giles stared at her. "Please tell me the two of you weren't _competing? Oh dear lord."_

"What?"

"Buffy, you're old enough to know better. And you're the Chosen One!"

"One girl in all the world to put up with Spike."

"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said, pet," said an annoyingly familiar voice.

"Spike, excellent, let's get down to business," said Giles briskly.

"Let's make this snappy. Places to go, people to see." Spike drummed his fingers on the table.

"Where have _you got to go?" asked Buffy with deep cynicism._

"What's it to you?" he said, pleasantly, "Maybe I've got a date?"

"Eww. That is the grossest idea I've ever heard! And who would date _you?!" _

"Fascinating as Spike's love-life is, could we please get down to work?" interrupted Giles, looking frustrated.

"Jealous?" mouthed Spike. Buffy ignored him.

"The demon that was found in your basement was a Rayfori demon, as characterised by the tattoo on its face and the melting into slime," began Giles, immediately in lecture-mode. He stopped to glare at Buffy as she yawned.

"They are generally found in packs and sightings have been reported around the old cemetery, with particular disturbances having been noted by the crypt on the south-east side." He was interrupted by a strange sound from Buffy as she tried to swallow a yawn and instead snorted.

"They can be killed by any of the usual methods, as you found…." He gave up as the pencil with which Buffy had been fidgeting dropped to the floor.

"Do you pay this much attention in college?" he enquired politely.

"Can I go kill stuff?" she begged.

"Yes," he sighed.

"Was there any point to that little talk at all?" she asked, preparing to leave.

"No, not really," he replied, quite cheerfully. "I suspect it could have been avoided entirely had you been capable of walking last night."

*****

"So that was like, _punishment boredom?" Spike said with disbelief._

"I know. It's so like the usual type!" They both laughed. Buffy quickly straightened her face.

"Never knew Rupert had an evil streak," wondered Spike, shaking his head.

"Let's just get this over with. Find this pack of – Raffle demons – and go home."

"Not hungover, are you, pet?" he asked with a grin.

"No," she said defensively. "Anyway, I thought you had things to do. Not that I believe you."

"Now that nearly hurt. Happens I'm looking for a place to live."

"Xander throw you out?"

"Not quite. But he keeps leaving garlic round the place. I don't mind garlic myself but I'm startin' to take the intention kind of personal."

"Let me offer my support for that idea right now. If there's anything I can do to move you out of our lives, you have only to ask."

"Very touching. Speaking of which…."

"What?" she snapped, her eyes glinting dangerously.

"Isn't that where we're going?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Creepy looking crypt. Looks about right. Come on, let's get this over with."

They entered cautiously, Buffy's eyes gradually becoming accustomed to the dark.

"No big bads," observed Spike.

"They've been here though," she replied, pointing out the signs of habitation; a mess.

"Nice little place they've got here." Spike looked about appreciatively.

"Are you house-hunting?" she asked incredulously.

"What's wrong, pet, don't want me out of your life just yet?"

"A) Yes I do, B) This so isn't far enough away and C) Can you keep your mind on the job and stop checking out this revolting crypt, please?"

"'S not revolting!" He looked offended. "Look, there's even a downstairs."

Buffy rolled her eyes but followed him across the floor and down the makeshift steps. Glaring at his annoying back, it crossed her mind to step on his stupid duster and make him fall down the stairs. She was prevented from making a decision by the world beginning to shake and spew rocks at them. The stairs they were standing on ceased to exist and they landed together with a thump on the ground.

"Earthquake," Spike surmised, brushing himself down and assessing the situation.

"Thanks, Einstein," Buffy snapped, trying to control the trembling of her legs. She got up slowly, determined not to reveal such weakness to Spike, of all people.

"Don't tell me the Slayer's scared of earthquakes." He sounded genuinely surprised.

"No, it's the apocalypse and death that follows that I have issues with," she sniffed. She chose not to specify _whose death._

"It's an earthquake," he repeated dismissively. "It's all….shifting landmasses and what-not. Don't you people tend to have them around here?"

"Yes. And then we have the end of the world. It's like a regular calendar holiday except without the fun and presents. Oh god – these demons! The ones that just, like, wander around my house. It's them – they're apocalypse demons!" Her voice grew in volume and shrillness and Spike rolled his eyes.

"Says who?" he groaned.

"The earthquake!" she insisted.

"Okay, say earthquakes do mean apocalypse – a dodgy premise, I must say - how do you know it isn't predicting a completely different apocalypse – say tomorrow or next week?"

"Oh, thanks, real comforting!" she said sarcastically.

"Anyway, I think we have worse things to worry about right now."

"Like?"

"You and me trapped in a very small space."

Buffy looked around and saw what he meant. The earthquake had dislodged enough rock to halve the size of the lower chamber, cutting them off from the stairs that no longer existed. There was no way out.

"Oh god no. Please, no!"

*****

"This is just great. Stuck in a horrible cave with the most annoying man in the world, waiting for the apocalypse demons to come home."

"You could help me move rocks instead of complaining, but oh no, I can see how sitting there whining will solve the problem much faster than actually helping!" he grunted, attempting to clear a way out.

"The most annoying person in the world now doing _Watcher impressions," she corrected herself._

An extra tonne of rocks crashed down, sending Spike scuttling backwards.

"And you're only making things worse by doing that," she added, knowingly.

"Well, fine. We'll just sit here and – have a conversation," he said sarcastically.

"No! No conversation. We should get out. Quickly!" said Buffy, suddenly attacking their prison walls with enormous enthusiasm.

"Oh give over, Slayer," he sighed, as her efforts were met with the same results as his had been.

"What the hell are we supposed to do? Just sit here?" she complained.

"Well, there are other things we could do…" he began suggestively, eyebrow raised.

"Not a chance in hell," she replied firmly. "Even if that should arrive very soon."

"Oh, come on," he said, trying to banish a smile. "What about the other night?"

"Moment of insanity," she said breezily.

"Moment?" he huffed, insulted. "More like five hours straight!"

"Not the point," she said, trying hard to drag her mind from the memory of those very hours. _Damn him!_

"You seem to have had a lot of these moments of insanity recently," he observed. "You considered talking to someone about it? Could be a slayer thing. Or it could just be that I'm irresistible."

"Is there anything that's going to make you shut up?" she asked, wearily. "Not that!" she added quickly, seeing his smirk. 

"How do you explain it to yourself?" she demanded, going on the offensive.

"What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

"You're supposed to be the big bad. Why are you chasing the Slayer and…."

"And what?"

"You know what!"

"And what was the question again?" he asked mischievously.

"Spike!" She kicked his leg in rebuke.

"I don't know. Can't kill anymore. Man has to have a hobby."

"I'm a hobby?" said Buffy indignantly, standing up and beginning to pace.

"What would you like to be?" he asked seductively, pulling her towards him.

"I'd like to be having a conversation with somebody sane," she retorted. She broke away from his grip, but more reluctantly than she would ever have admitted. "You know, preferably human, I'm not fussy."

"So what would the problem be?"

"With what?" she asked, confused.

"With you and me." He pointed from one to the other.

"Are you serious?" She looked at him blankly.

"Of course not!" he said, with just a hint of defensiveness. "But hypothetically?"

"Where do I start?" she sighed.

"Isn't that what you said the other night?"

"Shut up!"

"Three reasons!" he insisted.

"Why are we having this conversation?" she wondered aloud.

"Because we're stuck here with nothing better to do?"

"I hope the world ends soon."

"Three reasons," he repeated.

"You are a vampire," she said, as though reciting a lesson. "An evil soulless vampire," she clarified as he raised his eyebrows. He swelled with pride.

"And there's the talking. You always have to _say things."_

"Is it the way I tell you the truth when you're refusing to see it that gets to you?"

"No, it's the sound of your voice."

"Right back at you, love."

"And while we're on the point – you and the truth? Ha!"

"Next reason," he said, ignoring her.

"It's ridiculous," she said scathingly.

"That's a point," he agreed, unperturbed. His hand brushed her face.

There was no forethought. _No planning, she thought afterwards, in self-defence. __It was an *accident*. The sort of accident where you accidentally kiss someone. For the fourth time in a week. _

Her breathing grew heavy and she moved instinctively closer to him, knocking him off balance. They crashed to the ground and she straddled him.

"You sure?" he asked. 

She blinked in surprise. She could've sworn that Spike had just been, well, nice. Considerate, even.

"Oh yeah," she groaned, dimly aware that she was rubbing herself against him as she spoke. _I'm so gonna need therapy if I live past twenty-five._

"Then let the end of the bloody world stop me," he growled, tossing her on her back and jumping on her.

From somewhere that seemed very far away, they became aware of a crashing noise.

"Oh damn," he said, throwing his head back.

"You so asked for that," she pointed out, rearranging her clothes and leaping to her feet.

The wall of rock protecting them began to shake and then crumble.

"Oh no, nobody could get through that," mocked Spike, watching as something did indeed break its way through.

"Shut up, Spike."

Moving far enough from the crashing debris, they fell into fighting stance. The demons never knew what hit them – the combination of pissed off Slayer and frustrated vampire was unstoppable, even when confronted with six Rayfori demons that seemed unhappy to find Goldilocks and the Big Bad waiting in their home.

The fight was swift and effective. Buffy had to admit to herself that fighting alongside Spike was different to fighting with the others. Although, she realised ruefully, even fighting _against Spike had always been different to fighting anyone else._

"Mine!" she yelled running for the final demon. As she got to it, it was tackled by a fast moving, black-clad blur. "Spike!" she yelled in frustration, "What part of 'mine' do you not get?"

Spike rolled off the liquefying demon with a grin. "What, you wanted to kill it?" he inquired innocently.

She growled and kicked him. He rolled a little further, catching her foot in one hand and bringing her down on top of him. He captured her wildly swung fist, laughing. Grunting in frustration, she fought to break his grip, and preferably his arm. They tussled for a moment, before he managed to spin her onto her back. Taking advantage of her position, he threw a leg over her waist and held her legs still while he pinned her arms above her. Their eyes met, a fiery battle of wills. Gradually her movements changed in tempo, from furious escape attempt to rhythmic pelvic thrusts against his body. Sensing her conversion to the new game, he bent into her body and she arched into his kiss. 

He slid his hands down the contours of her body, tracing the curves, lingering to pull her top over her head and caress the lace beneath. As he sucked and teased her to distraction, she reached between them, fumbling for his zipper.

"God, Slayer, I always knew you'd be a demon," he cackled, shifting position to help her.

"Shut up, Spike," she growled, shoving his trousers down over his hips, and running her hands over his hard length.  He gasped, tearing frantically at her pants and ripping her underwear. She continued to rub against him, teasing him with her fingers until he kissed her ferociously. As she became vaguely aware of the taste of blood, he entered her forcefully, making her gasp in pleasure.

"So bloody hot," he murmured, sucking on her neck, moving towards the jugular.

"Shut up, Spike," she whimpered in reply, craning her neck a little to give him better access. This was far closer to ecstasy if she could pretend that she wasn't fucking a soulless vampire. 

"Give it to me, baby," he groaned, grinding his hips against her.

"Shut up Spike." She dragged her fingernails down his back, and tore at his neck, the violence of the action driving him over the edge.

"Oh god, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy," he babbled, loosing control. "God I love you."

And the world stopped.

Spike froze, mid-thrust.

Buffy stared at him.

Was there supposed to be a punchline?

She laughed nervously.

_Why can't the end of the bloody world come when you want it to? he asked himself in disgust._

He pulled out of her, painfully, leaving her groaning.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, as he scrambled for clothes.

_'Oh Slayer I love you!' his own voice mocked him, the words echoing in his mind. __Like a great prancing poofter. He pulled on trousers and cursed himself. __Just give me a soul now. And a pink fucking dress._

"Spike?" Buffy lay there, torn between annoyance and humiliation.

"Sod off, Slayer," he barked, fury etched in his face.

"You're just _going?" she asked in amazement._

"Get a vibrator, bitch. It's all you really want anyway." He added for good measure, "It'd still be better than your ex."

"Right. That's it. This is _over!" she growled, reaching for her own clothes, angry to find that she was shaking._

"Damn right, it's over! I'm moving out of the Whelp's and I'm not going to be your bloody _house pet anymore!" he yelled._

"Good!"

"And don't come crawling to me when you need help, Slayer!"

"As if!" she scoffed, fastening her shirt.

"Oh you will," he said, lowering his voice. "But you can come crawling on your hands and knees before I'm going to run round after you again."

"I thought I was your _hobby?" she mocked, her voice harsh._

"Who says you're _anything?" he spat. "You're just a way to pass the time, always have been."_

He strode off purposefully, leaving behind a deeply confused Buffy, searching for her shoe.


End file.
